


If I had known then what I know now

by raspberrylimonade



Series: Pack Hogwarts AU [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Amortentia, F/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Pre-Relationship, sciles humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrylimonade/pseuds/raspberrylimonade
Summary: Her voice trailed off as she rolled over and saw the grim look on Allison’s face.“It’s Stiles,” Allison said, and for the second time that day, Lydia’s heart plummeted. “He’s in the hospital wing.”Lydia discarded her book and sat up in bed. “What happened to him?”“I don’t know,” Allison replied. “Scott just whizzed me and told me to find you.”While Lydia flip-flops over her feelings, Stiles gets himself poisoned and winds up in the hospital wing. Concerned girlfriend Lydia ensues.Sequel toAmortentia





	If I had known then what I know now

**Author's Note:**

> When I first wrote [Amortentia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13411749) (which you should probably read to understand this story) it was meant to be a standalone one-shot but then I remembered the Ron getting poisoned storyline from HBP and couldn't help myself.
> 
> Also in this fic I mention these things called **whizzpads** which is something I came up with (you hear that? I am COPYRIGHTING this). They are like instant-messaging pads and are invented by WWW. You write a message on it and it appears on someone else's pad. Like texting for wizards since technology doesn't work in Hogwarts. It's the 21st century. They must have invented something.
> 
> Unbeta'ed because I was too excited to post it. You can find me on tumblr as [raspberrylimonade](raspberrylimonade.tumblr.com)and twitter as [stlnskissmartin](twitter.com/stlnskissmartin). Title is from Alexander Jean's "Wouldn't Change Anything". Enjoy!

Friday mornings were Lydia’s slow mornings. Having taken half her NEWTS a year early, Lydia had plenty of time on her hands during her last year at Hogwarts. Amazingly, her timetable worked out such that she only had one class on Fridays - Charms, right after lunch. She still had to get up and attend breakfast alongside everyone else, being Head Girl, but afterwards she had an hour or two for some leisure reading, depending on how late Malia showed up for her weekly tutoring session.

Tutoring was not as much of a sweat as it had once been. Malia still despised arithmancy with every fiber of her being. However, the gravity of seventh year was not lost on her, and she was actively trying to pass. Despite her tardiness, they managed to end their session ten minutes early today, which Malia counted as a victory before leaving the library. She mumbled something about doughnuts on her way out, which had Lydia shaking her head. Werecreatures and their insane appetites.

Lydia took her time packing her belongings. She was in no rush to go for lunch. She had a book she wanted to look for, and Stiles usually swung by after his ancient runes class for them to the Great Hall together.

Lydia smiled at the thought of meeting Stiles. She had been less than pleasant to him when they first met, coming to nine years ago now. Now he was one of her best friends. They no longer shared as many classes, given the fact that Lydia was barely taking any this year, but he still tried to meet her between his classes as much as he could. Lydia would be lying if she said she didn’t look forward to the end of each period.

The idea crossed her mind as the librarian waved her wand and handed Lydia her book. Stiles was always the one coming to her. This time she could go to him.

She walked through the empty hallways, imagining Stiles’ face when he emerged from his classroom to see her waiting. He would be chatting to another student, his head would turn casually, and then he would see her. His jaw would drop comically. His eyes would go wide. He would probably freeze and obstruct the narrow doorway. Lydia mentally replayed it over and over in slow motion.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that the sight of two figures in the corridor ahead of her took her aback. She backed into the adjacent hallway, before it clicked in her brain that it was just Stiles and Malia. Then she frowned. Stiles was supposed to be in class.

She rounded the corner again just as Stiles stepped forward, taking Malia by the elbows as he ducked his head and kissed her. Malia shifted backwards, her back turned to Lydia and half-obscured by a large pillar, seemingly from the force of Stiles’ lips on hers.

Lydia felt the bottom of her chest open up and her heart tumble out. She staggered backwards again, spun on her heel and walked away, every step heavier than the next.

She thought about Malia, coming in late with her hair rumpled. It was not unusual for the girl, but Lydia was slowly falling down the rabbit hole. Had Malia met Stiles before her tutoring session too? She and Stiles - were they sneaking around now? Stiles never mentioned being interested in anyone. A guy like him wore his heart on his sleeve, surely he would have mentioned -

_Maybe you are not as close as you thought,_ spoke a voice in her head.

Why would Stiles tell her? He had Scott. He had his father, whom he wrote to at least once a week. She was just the girl he used to have a crush on.

There it was. Lydia knew, logically, she could not expect Stiles to adore her forever. It would be unfair, honestly. However, sometimes when he put his hand on her back as they walked through the hallways, or when he smiled at her when she explained a concept to him, or when he brought her coffee when he knew she had a late patrol shift, Lydia couldn’t shake the feeling that their friendship could be something _more_.

Somehow, she made it all the way back to the private room she had as Head Girl without encountering anyone else, for which Lydia was grateful. Over the years, she had mastered the art of putting up a front. This time, however, she was not confident of her ability to act as if everything was fine.

Lydia fell back onto her bed with a sigh. Everything was fine, technically. It was a whole lot better than last year, with the proliferation of illicit werewolves amongst the student body, finding out the truth about Stiles’ mother and whatnot. A little teenage romance was nothing compared to that.

It just wasn’t her teenage romance.

She recalled the repulsive fumes emitted when she brewed amortentia, some kind of vehicle fuel. She sighed again. Maybe she would never get this right.

* * *

 

When Allison eventually let herself into the room, Lydia was lying on her stomach, reading her _Advanced Herbology and Arboriculture_ textbook in attempt to distract herself.

“Hey, I don’t really have an appetite today, and I was just reading…”

Her voice trailed off as she rolled over and saw the grim look on Allison’s face.

“It’s Stiles,” Allison said, and for the second time that day, Lydia’s heart plummeted. “He’s in the hospital wing.”

Lydia discarded her book and sat up in bed. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” Allison replied. “Scott just whizzed me and told me to find you.”

Without thinking, Lydia got out of bed and rushed to the hospital wing without straightening out her robes, Allison trailing behind her.

* * *

 

The burst through the doors of the ward just in time to catch the tail end of Malia’s sentence, eyes sweeping the room until they spotted the small huddle of people at the far end.

“And then he tried to kiss me again, so I punched him,” Malia was saying.

“Hard enough to knock him out,” Dr Geyer, the head healer noted. He was standing to the side of the last cot, Scott and Malia at the foot. Lydia hurried over, taking in the figure lying still in the cot. Stiles’ pale skin was mottled by a large bruise on his face.

“What happened?” she asked, panting for breath.

Her eyes darted from Scott to Geyer to Malia, trying to suppress the image of Malia and Stiles kissing in her mind. Scott and Malia shared a look before Scott cleared his throat and answered.

“Well, Stiles went to the Slytherin dungeons and poked around the boys’ dormitory while Theo was in class,” Scott began. “He found a box of doughnuts and ate them, but it turns out they were laced with love potion.”

He paused to fix Malia with an odd look.

“Why were you giving love potion to _Theo_?”

“Stiles said he was up to something, so I thought I could lure him and find out.”

“Malia, you don’t take potions.”

“And you can’t bake either.”

Dr Geyer took that moment to interject.

“That would explain his condition,” the healer said.

Scott frowned. “What condition?”

“We found Mr Stilinski to be suffering from some type of non-lethal poisoning,” Geyer explained. “Now we know it is food poisoning or ingestion of an unskillfully brewed potion, possibly both. He will recover, but not without experiencing abdominal pains.”

As if on cue, Stiles let out a small moan. Five pairs of eyes watched as he stirred slightly, brows furrowing for a moment before he puckered his lips and seemingly relaxed, the pain having passed.

Allison turned back to Malia. “How did you get into the Slytherin boys’ dormitory in the first place?”

Malia shrugged. “I gave them to Erica and she brought them in.”

When Lydia thought about it, she did see Erica leaving the boy’s wing that morning, a smug look on her face. It was not an unusual sight. Their classmates had a tendency to make unwanted passes at her, and Erica conversely enjoyed charming their belongings to explode as payback.

Apparently today she had been up to something else.

Scott brought his hands to his face, rubbing his temples. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Would you have agreed to this?” Malia countered.

“No!” Scott answered exasperatedly.

Allison cleared her throat. She looked at Dr Geyer and waved a hand at Stiles.

“So what do we do? Do we just wait for him to wake up?” she asked.

“In the meantime, yes,” Dr Geyer nodded. “You may stay with Mr Stilinski if you do not have class now. Otherwise, I believe your professors are expecting you.”

Allison and Malia both nodded and retreated from the room, the former squeezing Scott’s hand before she left.

Lydia stayed rooted in her spot. She bowed her head, but Scott brushed at the sleeve of her school robe, pleading for her to look at him. She obliged.

Scott’s face with unnervingly solemn, a far cry from the spirited teenager she knew. When his eyes met hers, Lydia wondered if his apparent concern was not just for Stiles.

“Go, Lydia,” he said softly. “I know you have Charms.”

Lydia broke away from Scott’s gaze to look at Stiles again. Logically, she knew he would be fine. He was just knocked out - for a considerably trivial reason given everything he had been through. As Head Girl, she _should_ be attending class. And she was still upset about what she had witnessed that morning - wasn’t she?

“Lydia,” came Scott’s voice again. “When he wakes up, I’ll let you know.”

Finally, Lydia nodded. She turned to Dr Geyer, who gave her a curt nod. Then, she was on her way, her eyes lingering on Stiles cot for as long as she could manage.

* * *

 

It should have been a simple recovery for Stiles, but of course Malia had to make a mistake while brewing love potion.

“I had hoped this wouldn’t happen,” Professor Deaton sighed as he watched one of the nurses lower a sedated Stiles’ body back onto the cot.

“Hoped?” Allison asked. “You mean you knew this might happen?”

Most professors would have frowned at the girl’s interrogatory tone, but Deaton maintained his usual calm expression when he faced her.

“Dr Geyer informed me that Mr Stilinski’s body responded well to the antidotes administered, so I thought we could afford to be optimistic,” he explained. “I also did not think such a condition, if it arose, would be this...extreme.”

At this moment, Lydia burst into the ward, robes astray and hair flying. Her books were nearly spilling out of her bag, the cover flap left open. Lydia _never_ left her bag open.

“What’s wrong?” she panted, waving her whizzpad wildly. “What happened?”

Allison was by her side in a second. She took the Lydia’s bag from where it was slipping from the girl’s arm entirely and placed her free hand on Lydia’s shoulder.

“It’s nothing serious. I’m sorry if my message was vague. It was just...weird.”

“What Miss Argent means to say is, your classmate, being untrained in advanced potions, did not make a proper amortentia brew. As a result, Mr Stilinski is still affected by the potion, and in a rather strange way,” Dr Geyer informed her.

“Strange how?” Lydia asked.

Healer and professor both shared a look, neither offering an answer to Lydia’s questions. Allison was still stroking Lydia’s arm, but had turned to Scott, who Lydia now just noticed. He was standing behind the two adults, almost hiding behind them, and staring at his shoes. Lydia called his name, and when he looked up, she saw his cheeks were bright red.

Finally, Allison cleared her throat.

“Um,” she said, drawing out the word. “I didn’t see everything that happened because I had just gotten out of class myself, but Stiles woke up, and instead of thinking he loves Malia he thinks he…”

She trailed off, glancing at Scott again. The boy blushed harder and ducked his head.

Allison snorted lightly, and brought a hand to cover her nose and mouth.

“It’s not funny,” Scott mumbled, still looking down.

“It kind of is,” she replied.

“ _What_ is or is not funny?” Lydia asked, looking between her two friends.

Dr Geyer took this time to step in. “The remnant effects of the improper amortentia caused Mr Stilinski to experience an intense attraction towards the first person he saw. As Mr McCall did not have class, he was here this whole time and was the first person Mr Stilinski saw upon waking up. We gave Mr Stilinski a sleeping potion so he would not embarrass Mr McCall further.”

“He pulled me onto the bed and tried to kiss me,” Scott supplied meekly.

Allison was shaking with another round of suppressed laughter.

“Fortunately, Mr Stilinski’s head of house is very knowledgeable in potions himself, despite not teaching the subject,” Dr Geyer continued, “and is working with us to restore your friend to his normal state of mind.”

Professor Deaton nodded. “We have an idea for an anti potion that will completely purge the amortentia from Mr Stilinski’s system, but are missing a key ingredient. As his closest friends, we think you could perhaps help us with that.”

“Anything for Stiles,” Allison answered, giving Lydia a _look_.

“We need to know what amortentia smells like to him.”

Scott’s head snapped up. Lydia figured he thought the statement bizarre, then she remembered Scott was a werewolf who sat near Stiles during potions. Maybe he knew something.

“If we can get a sample of something that Mr Stilinski smells in his potion - any one thing - we can remind him of what he truly loves,” Deaton went on. “It might be a long shot, but do any of you happen to know what amortentia smells like to Stiles?”

“I thought amortentia smells different to everyone, no matter who prepares it,” Allison said.

“Yes, but sometimes during the brewing process you might be able to smell someone’s potion as it does to them,” Lydia told her. She looked at Scott expectantly, but he surprisingly did not pipe up. His cheeks started flushing again when his eyes met hers.

Lydia frowned, but let it pass. Perhaps Scott was just thinking about the time he caught a scent of _her_ potion. Did he feel bad about that? It was not his fault - her potion was simply foul and overbearing. Anyone walking down that hallway that day would have smelt it, werewolf senses or not. She made a mental note to talk to Scott after they solved Stiles’ problem.

“Would it help if we had the amortentia Stiles brewed?” Allison suggested. “Professor Harris always keeps samples of our work. Lydia and I could ask him since we’re in his house.”

Deaton offered them a small smile, which, on the typically cool and unemoting professor, was a good as a full-on beam.

“Yes, that would be quite helpful,” he said. “Though in that case I would suggest Miss Martin hurry to Professor Harris’ office. I know he discards students’ samples after a week, and if I remember correctly, he taught about amortentia that much time ago.”

“Last Thursday,” Scott confirmed. _That_ he would know. The full moon was on Sunday.

Deaton waved his wand. A small piece of parchment flitted out of the healers’ private station and hovered in the air above them. The professor waved his wand again, and the parchment flew out of the window, its folds flapping like a butterfly’s wings.

“And perhaps Miss Argent you could accompany her as well? I know Harris is not prone to sharing what is in his stores. He might need some convincing. The note I’ve sent along should help as well.”

Both girls nodded and made their way out of the ward.

They were brisk-walking down the hallway, hand in hand, when they heard the doors to the hospital wing burst open again, followed by Scott calling Allison’s name.

“Hey,” he breathed, jogging towards them and reaching for Allison’s hand. “Can we talk? About, you know…”

He jerked his head towards the doors separating them from Stiles. Lydia wanted to shake her head and smile. Only Scott would apologise for someone else being in love with him, even when said person had been under the influence of a love potion and his girlfriend seemed perfectly amused by the situation.

She nudged Allison towards Scott.

“Go,” she told her. “I can handle Harris myself.”

“Whizz me if you need me, okay?” Allison replied, watching Lydia hurry off before turning back to Scott.

She opened her mouth, ready to ask _Hey, what’s wrong?_ but Scott beat her to it.

“What hair products does Lydia use?”

“What?”

“Her conditioner,” Scott said. “It has this scent. I can smell it on her. And I smelled it in Stiles’ potion.”

Allison gaped.

“Stiles - oh, _oh,_ oh my god, of _course,_ ” she exclaimed. “He still…”

She trailed off, but Scott nodded anyway, apparently thinking the same thing. He then shook his head as he no doubt thought about his best friend’s antics.

Allison smacked her forehead. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of that. Is that why you were so weird when Professor Deaton mentioned it?”

Scott nodded again, more sheepishly this time. “I didn’t know if Lydia would want to find out like that. And I tried acting normal but she was _staring_ at me the way she does when she’s on to something, you know? It’s unnerving.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t start interrogating you,” Allison remarked. “She must be really concerned about Stiles.”

“Yeah. I feel pretty bad, now she has to talk to Harris for no reason,” Scott added. “Back to her conditioner. I would assume Sleekeazy’s, but I heard it doesn’t work well for redheads, and I know it’s not one of the common hair potions in the prefects’ bathroom, because I don’t smell it there.”

“You’re right, she uses Bermont’s. Pomegranate scent. I’ll nab some from her trunk right now,” Allison told him. “And Stiles would tell you her hair is - ”

“Actually strawberry blonde,” they finished together.

* * *

 

“So, Malia leaves a box of badly made doughnuts for Theo, which I steal and eat when snooping about his stuff, but the doughnuts contain badly made love potion, which I consume along with the badly made doughnuts, basically poisoning myself, and also making me act like a total creep towards not one but _two_ were-creatures who could have ripped my face off.”

He shook his head as if he could not believe it.

They were back in Beacon Hills for Christmas break and Stiles had once again dragged Lydia out for a midnight drive. He had been doing that since they got back, eager to try out his newly inherited jeep. His father had finally given him the keys to the old thing over the summer, and the novelty of finally owning his own personal vehicle had not worn off for Stiles. He insisted on driving Lydia everywhere even though she could side-apparate with her mother, reasoning that she had missed out during summer, having been travelling with her mother or visiting Allison in France.

“I can’t believe you,” she huffed. She was supposed to be annoyed. It was late and all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep.

Usually when Stiles showed up, she was already tucked into bed. However tonight, Lydia had just returned from a work function with her mother when headlights skated through her bedroom window and across the ceiling. Five minutes later she was seated in the passenger seat with a large piping cup of coffee shoved into her hands. She hadn’t even had the chance to change into casual clothes and remove her makeup.

“Skipping class to break into someone’s room? I wouldn’t put it past you,” she told him. “But taking a box of snacks for yourself? I expected better.”

“They were warm. I figured they were left there recently and he didn’t know about them yet, and so he wouldn’t miss them,” Stiles defended. “And he doesn’t deserve to eat doughnuts.”

“Those doughnuts made you sick, Stiles.”

“Well, that would have been great if it happened to Theo!”

Lydia rolled her eyes.

When they stopped at a red light, Stiles turned to look at her.

“This might sound weird,” he began, “but when they woke me up the second time, I’m pretty sure they made me drink hair potion.”

“Why on Earth would they do that?”

Stiles shrugged. “Beats me. Medicine is a weird science. Or magic. Or both?”

Lydia let out an exasperated sigh. “Well then, what made you think that Professor Deaton and Doctor Geyer fed you hair potion when it would only poison you further?”

“Because it smelled like yours,” Stiles murmured, voice low.

Lydia stiffened, coffee cup paused right under her lips. “It did?”

“Yeah. I think I was breathing fruit fragrance for a few hours after,” Stiles mused. “I could smell it in my breath. Like the time you made me carry a whole box of your special conditioner to your dorm for you.”

He waved his arms around. “Anyway, I remember you telling me it’s _au naturel._ So if it were to poison me - after I already consumed fake love potion, at least it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

He started rambling about whether a product could really be considered natural if magic was involved in the production process, but Lydia had tuned out what he was saying.

She sat there, frozen, the pieces coming together in her head. Scott’s strange reaction when he was asked about Stiles’ amortentia. How Deaton had managed to formulate the anti potion so fast. How Allison had borrowed her conditioner out of the blue that same day.

_If we can get a sample of something that Mr Stilinski smells in his potion - any one thing - we can remind him of what he truly loves._

_Something that Mr Stilinski smells in his potion._

_What he truly loves._

Her brain was quick to make excuses, that she couldn’t be the only student at Hogwarts who ordered their own hairwash products, that it was because he’d had an intense crush on her for so many years, that it only meant he enjoyed her company. Deep in her heart, however, she knew that magic was stronger than that.

She was reminded of where they were when the jeep shuddered. Next to her, Stiles grunted as he adjusted the gears and pushed on the gas pedal again. The jeep groaned in response but did not move. Glancing up, Lydia noticed the light had turned green. Fortunately there were no other cars on the road that late at night.

Stiles clambered out of the jeep and made his way around to the front. Lydia eyed his forearms as he pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt up before pulling up the hood, the sinewy muscles in his arms pulling taut. Then the rising hood of the jeep blocked her vision, jarring her back into reality.

She huffed and shook her head, turning to the rearview mirror. It was hard to tell without any proper lighting, but her makeup was not as caked up as she expected, even though she had not touched it up with glamour spells all night. Her eyeshadow in particular was still smooth and shimmery, and the shade complemented both her irises and skin tone. Lydia hummed in satisfaction and made a mental note to check out full line.

“Lydia? _Lydia!_ ”

She turned her attention back to Stiles. His head was sticking out from the side of the hood.

“I said can you get another roll of duct tape?” he called. He shook his head to keep some hair from falling into his eyes, and Lydia swallowed before she could reply.

“Yeah, I got it.”

She was hit with a foul, petroleum stench the moment she stepped out of the jeep. By the time she made her way over to Stiles, she was coughing into one hand, holding out the other to hand him his duct tape.

“Sorry about that,” Stiles apologised. “It’s the engine oil burning. I’ll have to look into that, maybe it even needs a refilling. I would check the levels but the dipstick is probably too hot to touch right now.”

Lydia cupped her hands over her nose and mouth, which did little to block out the gasoline smell, but allowed her to breathe without feeling like she was choking.

“How can you stand this?” she asked. “It smells as bad as - ”

She stopped short, freezing for the second time that night. Stiles threw her a glance over his shoulder, then turned back to look at her properly, brows furrowed with concern. Lydia started coughing to cover her slip up.

“You okay?” Stiles asked, straightening his back. He turned away from the jeep to hover one outstretched hand by her shoulder. “You were going to say something.”

“I’m fine. I lost my train of thought. It doesn’t matter,” Lydia fibbed. She forced another round of coughs just for good measure.

_It smells as bad as_ my _love potion,_ was what she had been about to say.

If Stiles suspected she was withholding information (he had gotten really good at reading her like that), he did not push it. Instead, he guided her back the short distance to her seat, one hand between her shoulder blades as if she would fall over any moment from a coughing fit. A few minutes later, he called for her to turn the ignition key. The jeep sprang back to life on the first try, and the hood slammed down to reveal Stiles’ victorious grin. Lydia smiled back before she could think about it, her heart fluttering in her chest and Stiles excitedly climbed back into the jeep.

Later, in the wee hours of the morning, Lydia was back in bed, showered, washed up and in bed. She had been tossing and turning for half an hour at least when she finally sighed and rolled over to get her whizzpad.

_Allison._ _I need advice._

**Author's Note:**

> So, they aren't together yet because I'm evil like Jeff Davis. I assure you stydia will be endgame in the larger Hogwarts AU I'm working on but I can't tell you when it's coming.


End file.
